


The Light in the Dark

by ChangeTheCircumstances



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Gen, Guilt, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, M/M, Minor OC Death, Past Child Abuse, Pre- and Post-movie, Torture, not to graphic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-12
Updated: 2016-12-12
Packaged: 2018-09-08 04:01:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,800
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8829691
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChangeTheCircumstances/pseuds/ChangeTheCircumstances
Summary: By the time that America had entered World War I and Percival had been drafted, Theseus Scamander had already been known as a war hero. Because of that, Percival had recognized him right away once he realized he had been assigned to the same front.Ultimately, Percival served less than a year with the younger man but by the time it was over, they had become close friends. Really, their entire squadron had. After all, if you couldn’t trust the man who was protecting your back or front, what was the point? But in the end, Theseus was the only one Percival had chosen to remain in contact with.





	

**Author's Note:**

> So I told myself I wasn't going to write another Percival Graves fic. Well, clearly I lied. For anyone who reads this, thank you and I hope you enjoy it :)

By the time that America had entered World War I and Percival had been drafted, Theseus Scamander had already been known as a war hero. Because of that, Percival had recognized him right away once he realized he had been assigned to the same front.

Ultimately, Percival served less than a year with the younger man but by the time it was over, they had become close friends. Really, their entire squadron had. After all, if you couldn’t trust the man who was protecting your back or front, what was the point? But in the end, Theseus was the only one Percival had chosen to remain in contact with.

During small spaces of free time between a charge or when their shift was rotated or if they weren’t grasping at measly sleep hours, they ended up passing the time with telling each other of their family. They talked about other things but family was the easiest to speak of as it was that which they truly missed. It was always told in joking tales or nagging about someone’s annoying habits but what it really meant was that they missed them. They missed them so very, very dearly.

Percival had a younger sister who he hadn’t spoken to in the past three years thanks to the argument that she’d had with their parents. She’d wanted to go over to Europe and volunteer as a healer before America was officially involved but they’d been adamantly against it. Since the blow up, he’d received two letters from her with no return address and really no hint of what she was up to.

When talking about it, he blew off worry and said, “She’ll turn up eventually.” But he couldn’t help but wonder if she was dead. Dead in one of the ditches, destined to be thrown away with a hundred other unnamed men. It was certainly more likely. After all, Percival lived each day like it was his last now, but he still never voiced the thought and Theseus never said otherwise.

For Theseus, he usually complained about his younger brother and the trouble he remembered the younger man getting in to. He talked about how Newt was such a wimp and always to scrawny and would have died on his first day if he was out with them. That translated to he was glad Newt wasn’t out on the fronts, that he thought Newt safer wherever he was for the moment. But much like Percival, he never completely voiced this idea.

They did talk of other things though. Percival once told Theseus he was an Auror and, if he were lucky enough, that would be the job he’d return to upon going back to New York. Theseus had admitted that he’d thought of such a career path but once the war had begun for Britain, he’d been the first one to sign up.

It made since really, just looking at him. For Percival, war was like a store bought suit. In the right angle and lighting it worked but in all, it wasn’t for him and he couldn’t wait to exchange it for another. For Theseus though, war had been tailor made for him, moving perfectly with his form and something he would gladly put on every day. There were certainly similarities to being an Auror and being a soldier, but it was obvious that Theseus was one of the few men that would gladly choose the horrors of war rather than be the equivalent of a wizard cop.

Percival didn’t really understand how but he never asked seeing as he doubted Theseus could put the feeling into words anyways. In his time as an Auror, he had grown used to the darker side of humanity. But war was a different battleground altogether and long after it was over, he still had nightmares of what he’d seen.

After the war did finally end and Percival could return home, he didn’t see Theseus in the coming years but he did get letters constantly and always made time to write back.

For Percival, the years then quickly flew by as he rose in the ranks and eventually became Director of Magical Security. The only dip in that time was when he got a letter two years after the war had ended, confirming his sister had died saving three other men. It was a truth Percival had expected and even come to believe yet seeing it on paper was an entirely different matter.

He went to the funeral in between work and cried on the first night he’d received the news, holding a picture of himself and his sister from years ago. But he didn’t mention it to anyone, no one except Theseus, and he continued on with his work just like before.

The death of his sister might have brought him and his parents closer again, it seemed like the next logical step, yet it only made Percival drift from them farther. He never consciously thought it, but in a way, he blamed them for her death and couldn’t bring himself to see them. Instead, he settled for the occasional letter and thankfully neither his father nor mother asked for more.

As time passed, it became clear to Percival that he really only had one confidant, one friend. He didn’t really have a family anymore, it was just the letters from Theseus. Of course, that didn’t mean he was a total recluse. He was certainly sociable with the Madame President and there was that particular Auror, Goldstein, that he interacted with more than the others (he could tell that she could make a great Auror with the right guidance), but he certainly wouldn’t consider himself a friend to either. Certainly coworkers, perhaps a mentor for Goldstein, but he didn’t tell either anything of his private life and they didn’t tell him any of theirs.

That left Theseus, and really Theseus alone that knew the inner workings of Percival Graves’ mind.

Time went on and from Theseus’ side, Percival learned that he had eventually become an Auror after riding the coattails of fame (he complained constantly about the paperwork in each letter following that), and Percival learned of the falling out he had with his brother. Those were the two most major developments and everything in between was mostly fluff. Theseus would usually tease Percival about something and Percival would respond with a dry, witty comeback.

It was how their letters went.

Right until Percival’s entire world was traded for the dark and the cold.

* * *

 

When Percival woke up in a cell, the dark and the wetness of it had his mind flashing back to the trenches. He could hear the spells and the bullets whizzing by again, the screams, the shouts. His breathing came in fast, panicked, and his addled mind couldn’t bring himself out of it. He knew he was in danger, that something was wrong, but he wasn’t aware of his surroundings, mind stuck back in the war.

However, a voice broke through the noise created by his own mind. Percival grasped onto it, desperate. Yet upon realizing the voice was not a kind one, he tried to back off. However, it was already to late and he was thrust back into reality.

Staring into the face of Gellert Grindelwald almost made Percival wish he was back in the war. In the coming weeks and months, he would absolutely wish for that. At least in the fighting, death had been a possibility.

For the moment though, he just stared, confused and shocked and body aching.

“Tell me Mr. Graves, what do you think of muggles and squibs?”

The question caught Percival off guard. His words fell out of his mouth, slurred and nonsensical. It earned him a slap to the face, the sudden pain bringing his mind clarity. It cemented what this was. Real. Concrete. Grindelwald slowly turned his face so that they could stare at each other again and this time Percival knew that a nightmare was no longer a possibility.

“Tell me,” Grindelwald repeated, “what do you think of muggles and squibs?”

Percival swallowed, his throat dry and the motion painful. “They don’t deserve what you do to them. I know that much,” he managed to get out with a minimal amount of pauses and coughs.

The response was a confusing one as Grindelwald let out a sorrowful sigh. It didn’t sound faked either. Grindelwald seemed truly sorry.

“That is a shame Mr. Graves. I had very high hopes for you. After all, you fought in the war didn’t you? Certainly your feelings towards muggles must have changed then. Muggles were the ones that caused it after all.”

A frown fell on Percival’s lips.

“Oh, so you don’t agree with that? So you’re telling me a muggle assassin didn’t kill a muggle archduke and cause the world to fall into chaos?”

“You’re over simplifying it,” murmured Percival, “to fit your own truth.”

That earned him another slap.

“I am over simplifying it for your benefit. Not my own,” retorted Grindelwald. “I would have hoped that someone such as yourself would understand the grave implications that I’m trying to get across to the rest of the Wizarding World.”

“We only just got out of a war,” Percival replied. He suddenly found Grindelwald’s hand around his throat but he gasped out the remaining thought anyway. “Why the hell would we want another?”

“To be free,” Grindelwald murmured, his hand still pressed against Percival’s skin.

It wasn’t tight enough to choke but it did make breathing difficult for several long seconds. But then Grindelwald eased the grip, the touch turning gentle as he caressed Percival’s jaw line. That was far more terrifying than any act of violence.

It was then that Percival realized he couldn’t move. Not really. He could blink and breath and talk but he couldn’t pull away, couldn’t punch, kick, use a spell. He was like putty as Grindelwald slowly moved his head from side to side, face thoughtful.

“Acknowledging the circumstances, you’re a rather attractive man.” Grindelwald chuckled then and finally let him go. “No need to look like that Mr. Graves. I am simply curious how one with looks like yourself doesn’t have a significant other. I would say your mother probably bugs you endlessly, that it isn’t right for a man of your age to still be single and childless. But you don’t talk to your mother. You don’t really talk to anyone. I must admit, that’s why I chose you.”

“For what?” asked Percival, heart beating all the faster.

“To become you,” murmured Grindelwald as he started messing with Percival’s hair. His touch was slow, lazy. It would have been calming had it come from anyone else. “I will say,” continued Grindelwald, “that it would have been enjoyable. Taking someone who truly knows you and being around them constantly. It would have been quite a challenge, one I would have enjoyed. But you have no secret lover, no friend you constantly go out drinking with. How do you live such a sad life?”

This time Percival didn’t respond. He had talked to much already. It was best if he didn’t engage Grindelwald at all, if he just focused on a way to get out. But that didn’t seem to sit well with Grindelwald as his expression turned dark. He took hold of Percival’s chin again, thumb brushing Percival’s bottom lip.

“Perhaps I will have some fun with you.”

He couldn’t help the sharp and choked breath that he sucked in.

“If you don’t wish for that to happen, then answer me. How can you live such a life?”

Percival would have shivered if he could. Instead, he just forced himself to say, “Work is enough.”

“Hmm, I expected you to say that,” Grindelwald murmured, sounding oddly disappointed again. “We’ll see if we can change that answer in the coming days. After all, I am becoming you. I should know how to think like you.”

With that, Grindelwald stood up and turned to leave. The door that he left through didn’t leave any clues as to where Percival might be before he was left in darkness again.

* * *

 

The only people that probably had any idea as to how Percival Graves’ mind worked were Theseus. Theseus and now Grindelwald.

It started off with threats but after the initial meeting, Percival was ready and prepared for the following times they came face to face. It meant that harsh words turned physical when Grindelwald realized Percival had regained his nerves.

It was only after having over half the bones broken in his body at once that Percival finally admitted he found people unreliable, untrustworthy.

Grindelwald had taken those words with great interest, murmuring things like, “Not holy pleasant childhood then. Perhaps he was bullied, yes. Maybe father issues?”

As Grindelwald burned his hand, healed it, and then burned it again to the point that his nerves were completely destroyed, it was then that Percival told Grindelwald that he could relate to a corpse better than a human, that a corpse would always tell the truth but people lied.

When Grindelwald’s body pressed against him and Percival’s face was shoved into the dirty cell floor, it was then that Percival admitted that he was afraid. Afraid of rejection and that no one saw him as human, only someone to look up to or a point that they themselves had to surpass.

Many more moments of truths came out despite Percival’s attempts at keeping his mind his and his alone. Then Grindelwald came with something, saying it was hard to get and he couldn’t obtain the best version, hence why he’d had to break Percival physically and mentally before giving it to him. Otherwise Percival might have still fought it. Now Grindelwald seemed certain that it would work though and forced the substance down Percival’s throat. It led to the worst truth that Percival could have said. One that he had always tried to rationalize wasn’t true, one which he’d never said out loud.

“They pushed her away. They kept putting her down. They never supported her. Lyra never would have left if it wasn’t for them. I hate them. I hate _them_.”

The words should have been shouted, full of fire and anger. Instead, they came out half choked with tears and sobs. Percival Graves didn’t just blame his parents, he despised them for what had happened to Lyra, for what they had done to her. There had never been blows, not physical ones, but then those his sister could have lasted through. She could have been pummeled to the ground and she would have jumped right up again. But emotional abuse, that was something completely different, something which Lyra had no defenses for.

Percival supposed he had been emotionally abused as well as the words tumbled out of his mouth. He was an Auror after all. He knew the signs. But he’d just never been able to admit it.

His way of dealing with it had been to hide though, to shut himself from the world. Lyra hadn’t been able to do that. She had tried, Percival knew that, but it had just crushed her more. So she had run.

It had always been more than just her wanting to be a healer in the war. There had always been more and Percival had just never been able to say it.

“I should have done more for her. I’m as bad as them,” sobbed Percival, head bowed and chest heaving.

It was then that Grindelwald came forward and kissed his forehead. “Oh no my dear Percival. Don’t think of such things.” He made cooing sounds as he petted him, noises and touches that Percival didn’t want to find comfort in but there was truly nothing else to hold onto. “What if I killed them? Then you would never feel obligated to write to them. You wouldn’t have to think of them anymore. Revenge for yourself and your sister would be done. She could finally rest in peace.”

Percival’s wretched cries of “Don’t!” and “No!” did no good. Grindelwald simply nodded, a satisfied smile on his lips. “I’ll pay them a visit then,” he said. “Should I stay me or dress up as you? You I think.”

At that point, Percival had begged. His entire being broken to a point that he wasn’t even sure he could return from. Even when Grindelwald was gone from the room and Percival was thrust into darkness again he screamed for Grindelwald not to do it.

When Grindelwald returned, the polyjuice potion was still in effect. Percival watched himself walk forward in a blood drenched suit.

“At first, I didn’t want to stain the thing. Blood is so much harder to get out of clothes after all and the killing curse is just so effective that I didn’t think there a reason to do anything different. But then I thought to hell with it. Let’s make it last,” Grindelwald said as he moved closer. “I think I made the right choice. All this mess was worth it to simply see your face.”

Grindelwald smiled then at Percival, and Percival screamed.

* * *

 

Percival knew it was Grindelwald when the door opened. It didn’t matter that he wasn’t disguised as Percival or looked like himself. It was always Grindelwald. Why would this time be any different? But the fact that the face was familiar, that the words seemed genuinely pained and caring in that recognizable voice he hadn’t heard in years did make it worse. He knew after every kind touch would be another slap, another curse or hex and vice versa.

But when everything turned black, he figured that maybe he had finally gotten lucky. Perhaps death had finally arrived.

Instead, he woke in a bed with the same figure that he had last seen. There was a proper beard now and the uniform had been changed to untidy civilian clothes. Even so, the face was recognizable yet it still didn’t matter.

“I know it’s you, Grindelwald. It’s always you,” murmured Percival. He wanted the masquerade to stop. He didn’t need this. Not now. He had accepted his life, his new home. He didn’t need hope coming up and giving him something to fight for again.

But before Grindelwald could say anything, someone else walked in. No, that couldn’t be. There had always been two. Percival and Grindelwald.

“You’re not supposed to be here,” whispered Percival.

Then before anyone could say a word, he was pushing himself out of the bed and onto the floor. Hands tried to grab him but despite his frail condition, a new burst of energy had blasted though him. He felt his elbow connect with a nose, knew that he broke something, but he kept going. He scrambled across the room and as he collided with glass, for a moment there was silence. He stared at the outside world, at people and cars. His entire body would have collapsed if not for two pairs of hands that suddenly grabbed him. He wondered if they thought he was going to try and jump. It didn’t sound like a half bad idea.

“This is real?” he asked, voice broken and desperate.

The only response he got was a murmured ‘yes’ but that was all he needed from Theseus. His legs completely gave out then and he fell to the floor, Theseus not quite ready to catch him. Instead, the man moved with him, arms around him and holding him in place as if he thought he might try and scramble off again.

Percival looked over and saw the blood dripping down Theseus’ broken nose and it was honestly that which solidified the world as real. No way would Grindelwald have ever allowed Percival to get away with something like that.

With that, his arms started to give so Percival simply slumped against Theseus and cried.

He didn’t know when he fell unconscious again but upon waking up, he noted that Theseus’ nose had been fixed. However, the spots of blood on his collar showed he hadn’t changed clothes. Percival didn’t know if that meant it was the same day of if Theseus had stayed overnight. He’d lost the ability to keep time—

Blood. Blood on clothes. Blood everywhere.

He couldn’t stop the tears, the wretched sobs that started to fall before Theseus could even say a word.

“It’s my fault. Oh god it’s _my fault_!”

In response, Theseus grabbed hold of the hand that wasn’t covering Percival’s mouth. Theseus Scamander did not have to ask what his friend was talking of. Seeing as the case of Grindelwald had been an international matter, Theseus had been the Auror assigned by the Ministry of Magic to assist MACUSA with the solving of what happened to Percival Graves.

Theseus had been the first one to go and seek out Percival’s parents. He knew exactly what Grindelwald had done.

He stayed silent as Percival sobbed, a heavy feat indeed for anyone who knew Theseus. The man was almost always chatting, either teasing someone or being overly dramatic and complaining about something. Now he did neither as he held onto the friend he had not seen in years.

Theseus had actually looked into Percival long before he knew for sure that the man was missing. It was all thanks to the letters. Letters that didn’t quite sound like his friend, that were somewhat off and didn’t contain the usual wit he had come to expect. And then Grindelwald’s disguise had been discovered and Theseus’ suspicions were suddenly real.

It had taken another month after Grindelwald’s capture before Theseus had finally found Percival. He would later tell Percival that. Would tell him of all that had happened from his perspective, from his brother’s, of the events on both sides of the pond. But in that moment all Theseus did was sit in silence as he stayed the anchor that Percival so desperately needed.

There was really very little talking those first few days. Percival didn’t seem to know what to do other than cry and that was really the only way he would fall asleep. If he hadn’t exhausted himself, then he was awake and sobbing and shaking. And Theseus remained, not wanting Percival to be alone for one second.

He had often imagined when he’d finally see Percival again. He’d thought it would either be a carefully planned visit, one which Percival constructed perfectly and made sure everything was followed to the t. Either that or Theseus would have suddenly popped up out of nowhere and probably gave Percival a heart attack before the man spun around and knocked him upside the head.

That’s how he thought it would go.

He could still remember Percival in his prime, running beside him across no man’s land. The man that he held and could only cry and sleep could barely walk, let alone run.

Theseus had never thought it possible for Percival Graves to break. Any talk of the war in their letters had always been brief but Theseus had known Percival still had nightmares of it. Yet he’d kept marching on. He accepted whatever came at him and then went to work. That was the Percival Graves Theseus had always known.

This new Percival he didn’t know how to deal with. The only thing he did know was that the man was still his friend, that he still cared about him and would never let go, not until Percival asked him to.

* * *

 

“He’s not ready,” growled out Theseus.

Tina Goldstein stood beside him as well. He’d gotten to know her quite well seeing as they had worked closely in the investigation. He knew that she thought of Percival as a mentor, that she looked up to him and did care for him. Because of that, he wasn’t surprised that she remained next to him as he glared at the president of America.

“I too care for the man but his statement is needed, ready or not,” President Picquery replied. “Besides, your involvement in this matter is done Mr. Scamander. This is a MACUSA matter now, even if we are still in Britain.”

“Well I’m—” Tina started but she was quickly cut off.

“One of my Aurors,” Picquery replied, “meaning that I am your superior. Again, I am sorry but this cannot be delayed. Grindelwald may be captured but there are still supporters out there that are nearly as dangerous as him. We must know if Graves has any knowledge of this.”

She walked passed them and it took all of Theseus’ strength to not step in front of her. He did turn around and follow her into the room though, Tina close behind him.

Rather quickly, it was clear that Theseus had been right. They stopped five times and the only reason Theseus didn’t grab the president and literally throw her out of the room was because it was better to get it all over now rather than drag it out for longer than necessary. It didn’t make it any easier though, watching Percival succumb to clutching his chest and being unable to breath or pulling at his hair like he planned to rip it from his skull.

Days had passed and they had finally gotten past the crying, sleeping, and then crying again routine. A horrible part of Theseus almost missed it though. At least he knew what would happen and how to deal with it. Now, Theseus had no idea what could send Percival off. He was fine one moment, forcing himself to act as normal as possible, and then suddenly something might break him. Sometimes that thing made sense but more often than not Theseus had no idea what had scared or angered Percival so much. And then, he didn’t always break down crying either. Sometimes he would yell and scream which certainly got a hoard of healers heading their way. The worst part was when Percival just closed off though.

With the other reactions, Theseus could at least talk him down. If Percival just left the world however, there was no way for Theseus to get to him. It had to be Percival’s choice to come back and every time Theseus was terrified that Percival wouldn’t choose to.

In the middle of Picquery’s questioning, Percival did just that. It was the longest pause in the interrogation and it had caused the most visible reaction from Picquery as well. It seemed that she too expected tears or screaming but seeing a glassy eyed, unresponsive Percival was a completely different matter. Theseus simply whispered things into Percival’s ear, asking him to come back, promising him that he was safe. He didn’t know if any of that worked but it was worth trying as Tina hovered near as well.

And then Percival was suddenly back again, asking why Picquery had stopped talking, like no time had passed at all.

At the end of it with the last question asked and answered, Picquery said, “Thank you Mr. Graves. On behalf of MACUSA, I extend my deepest apologies for what has happened to you and that we did not realize sooner.”

That should have been it but then Percival whispered, “I’m not going back to work. Am I?”

It was actually surprising that Picquery heard him. “Think of it as a never ending paid vacation,” she replied which was basically her version of yes. Then she left and Theseus was turning all attention back to Percival.

Tina was truly a help whenever she was there and he always made sure to tell her that afterwards. However, once in the moment, Theseus’ world might as well have been Percival as he held him tight and repeated things like it would be alright and that he’d make it through it.

Percival didn’t seem so sure though. One moment he agreed with Theseus’ words and then he’d say something incredibly alarming that had Theseus’ resolve not to leave him become all the more real. Work had been completely pushed aside for the moment and thankfully the Minister had permitted his time off. Of course, self-care was important to which was one way Tina came in handy. Theseus always left when Percival was asleep when he had to run off and do something but he had Tina stay there just in case Percival woke up before he got back. Again, he didn’t like the idea of Percival being alone.

Of course, that cycle couldn’t last forever. Besides the fact that Theseus had to go back to work some day, Percival would also be released from the hospital soon. He’d need a place to stay because he sure as hell wasn’t going to go back to his lonely apartment. It meant that Theseus had to come up with an idea and quick before Percival was finally free from his hospital bed.

* * *

 

Theseus still claimed that he had won the last argument he’d had with his little brother. Nevertheless, Newt’s involvement with the Grindelwald case had made their talking again almost inevitable. So far, they hadn’t really had a proper conversation with each other but then, that wasn’t why they’d started talking again. Maybe some time down the road but for the moment, Newt was just as invested in helping Percival as Theseus was.

Ultimately, when Percival was released, Theseus had Tina and Newt grab all his things and also had them go ahead and make up a bedroom in Theseus’ home as he convinced Percival to come stay with him, something that was more difficult than it should have been.

“Do you really still think of us as friends?” Percival asked softly.

“How could I not? I’ve known you for nearly a decade now Perc,” Theseus replied, adding the nickname that Percival had always hated for good measure.

“I’m just a bother to you,” Percival replied though, not even blinking at the nickname that would have once made him roll his eyes and groan out loud.

“You’re not but even if you were, it wouldn’t matter. I may have gotten called a war hero but I sure as hell wouldn’t have lived to see that title without you. This is just me watching your back now.”

And then Percival just broke, crying and saying he wished he had died. Such words had Theseus’ stomach spinning so much he wanted to throw up. “ _I_ don’t want you dead. I never wanted you dead,” Theseus said, attempting to comfort Percival once more. “I love you. Hear me? Doesn’t matter that it’s been far to long since we’ve met face to face and it’s these horrible circumstances that led to it. You’ve been my best friend for years and I’m not having you suffer alone.”

Percival’s sobs changed to panicked, “I don’t want to be alone. I can’t be alone!” Theseus simply went with it, moving so that he was sitting beside Percival and could pull the man close into a hug.

“You’re not alone. Alright? You got me. You’re not alone.”

* * *

 

Percival had always thought himself a master of changing for the situation. He had always been able to think on his feet and though he always planned ahead, he could successfully change something at a moment’s notice. Yet now he didn’t seem able to adapt. Being around anyone had his heart racing and panic setting in. Even sweet Goldstein had set him off at one point and he didn’t even fully know why.

And when he was more lucid and aware, any help was annoying and soul crushing than anything. He knew that Ms. Goldstein and Theseus’ brother meant well when they hovered around him but it felt more demeaning than anything.

But then it was obvious why they did hover when suddenly Percival couldn’t breathe or a scream was ripping its way through his throat. He couldn’t control it, couldn’t control himself. Some days he said it didn’t matter, that he would go as he always had. Other days it meant he stared at the ground from the second story windows in Theseus’ flat and thought about just tipping forward. He’d land straight on his head and that would be it. He probably would have done it too by now if Theseus wasn’t always present.

Despite the distance that had set in between them for years, there was a comfort Percival felt in Theseus. It was a trust that he couldn’t share with Goldstein or Theseus’ brother Newton. He didn’t want to be some burden, a ghost that wandered around Theseus’ home. But he did feel safe. He at least knew that.

After initial settling in, Goldstein came often, always making sure that he was alright. Of course, he never was but again, the sentiment wasn’t holy unwelcomed. He saw Theseus’ brother all the more when Theseus had to go out.

In Percival’s more lucid moments, he often noted how Newt and his brother looked nothing alike. Newt was the taller of the two for one and had ginger hair rather than brown. He was always clean shaven with freckles and looked stick like compared to Theseus’ more muscular build. Not even their eyes were similar, Newt’s a light hazel and Theseus’ a dark brown.

When Percival was an utter wreck though, he could always tell afterwards he had deeply frightened Newt. The younger man didn’t know how to deal with Percival, didn’t really know how to calm him down again. His purpose was really just to make sure he didn’t do anything rash and unchangeable.

Both the Scamander brothers and even Goldstein tried to get him to do things, like reading, writing, something so that he wasn’t just sitting or wandering around the place. But a part of Percival couldn’t bring himself to do that. It would have made him seem normal and he wasn’t normal yet.

That had been clear when he nagged Theseus about the clothes that seemed to pop up everywhere and how he couldn’t seem to tie his tie right once he started going back to work. “It still amazes me that you were able to stay in the army what with how messy your bunk always was.”

“It wasn’t messy. It just looked that way compared to your perfect master piece,” Theseus had laughed. “It was almost synthetic how perfectly you always put everything back together. Really Perc, you made us all look bad.”

And that was how a normal conversation between them had once gone. That was how it was supposed to go. Percival was the more practical and logical one while Theseus was all smiles and laughter and teasing. That’s what it should have been.

But then something happened, perhaps a word, a fleeting glimpse of something. Percival didn’t know what connection had been made. All he knew was he was on his knees suddenly and unable to breath and that smile on Theseus’ face had been wiped clean.

It would take time to heal, that’s what everyone kept saying but how long was that? Percival was desperate for some kind of change, anything, yet he himself seemed unable to initiate it.

His life had lost meaning, lost purpose, and for the most part he blamed himself. He blamed his inability to fight, to be stronger, to have been unable to outsmart Grindelwald. It was his fault, everything that Grindelwald had done was his fault and Percival didn’t know if he could ever come out of that.

* * *

 

Strangely enough, it was the nights that were the easiest. Not because of the darkness because that would have surely sent him into thoughts of the cold and wet and stone and being unable to move. It was because he was never alone.

He usually kept an arm wrapped around Theseus’ waste, sometimes his head would rest on the other’s chest. Occasionally the position was switched if Percival fell asleep on his back. But it was never with Theseus pressed up against his back. That was at least one of the few triggers that Percival could identify.

But simply not being alone was something that eased his sleep greatly. There were still nightmares, still moments where he couldn’t close his eyes for fear of what lay behind them. But Theseus’ presence made so much of that go away. Sometimes he liked to imagine that it was before his kidnapping, his torture. He liked to pretend that he’d been brave enough to go after Theseus rather than keeping him at arm’s length through letters while using work as an excuse. He pretended that it hadn’t been his own misfortune that had brought them back together again.

But he wasn’t foolish enough to ever let such thoughts stay to long.

Sometimes when trying to fall asleep, Theseus would talk to him, tell him some story that he hadn’t mentioned in their letters to each other or he at least hadn’t been that detailed about. Sometimes it failed to make Percival fall asleep and Theseus would pass out instead. His voice was always welcomed though and if Theseus fell asleep first, then he could at least count each breath that he took to help him sleep.

Other nights, they both talked, full lengthy conversations that helped them both drift off or sometimes kept them up far to long.

“What must your neighbors think?” Percival asked once, knowing full well that the no-maj and wizarding worlds were much more interconnected in Britain seeing as this was a mixed building and that no-maj’s were still somewhat behind the times in certain ideas.

“You actually want to know?” asked Theseus.

Percival had shrugged.

“Next door, Ms. Cooker, has always thought me a bit off but then, she’s been living with her ‘cousin’ for the past twenty-three years I think.”

That got a snort out of Percival. He knew that the sound would lead to a smile from Theseus, something he couldn’t see in the dark so he felt for it instead, fingers tracing Theseus’ mouth, both turning silent for a moment longer.

“Mr. Maxwell and his wife don’t suspect a thing,” Theseus continued on when Percival’s hand finally rested against Theseus’ chest again. “But then, they have three children plus themselves in that tiny space so it’s really not surprising. The widow from the third floor, Mrs. Johnson, thinks I’m holding you hostage but then—oh bushwa I shouldn’t have fucking said that.”

Though Percival was gripping Theseus harder, he managed to keep his voice calm as he said, “You know, you saying ‘fucking’ kind of makes bushwa inane.”

“Oh to hell with that, I’m being an incentive shit over here. Again. It’s amazing you haven’t kicked me out.”

“It’s your apartment,” Percival reminded him.

“Oh, so it is.”

Percival just snorted again as Theseus turned his head and rested his forehead against Percival’s, their noses touching.

“I am sorry. I should think before I speak.”

“You haven’t done that in the past eight years I’ve known you,” Percival responded. “What makes you think you can change now?”

Theseus just laughed. “As always, you’re quite right.” Percival could practically feel the shift in the other’s body though, going from joking to serious. “You’re not a prisoner though. Alright? I just…I don’t want you to die Perc.”

“And you don’t trust me to keep living on my own.”

“That’s not—”

“No,” interrupted Percival. “You’re right. I would have killed myself by now.”

He could feel Theseus’ entire body shiver at that.

“I’m sorry,” murmured Percival.

“Don’t say that. I would rather hear it from you than have you keep it inside,” Theseus replied. “Just tell me what I can do to help, what I can do to make it better.”

“I don’t know,” Percival admitted.

He felt the sad sigh from Theseus, his chest slowly rising and falling.

“Tell me when you find out then,” murmured Theseus before he kissed him softly.

Percival simply tightened his grip and pushed himself closer before falling asleep.

* * *

 

A conscious effort had to be made to stay aware of how much time had passed. When Percival realized it had been months, he understood the younger Scamander’s predicament. The man had already published his book, it had been met with critical success, and now he had another year in funding for him to go on more expeditions. However, that couldn’t be done if he was coming over nearly every day to watch Percival while Theseus was at work.

Tina certainly couldn’t do it either. The fact that she came over as often as she did was more than anyone could have asked already.

That was how Percival had come to have a snake like animal called Daley as a pet. The creature was a descendent of a species of dragon, hence the little horn and the small wings at its side, but Newt had assured Percival that it didn’t breathe fire nor was venomous and mostly ate bugs and sometimes mice. He’d thought it a ridiculous idea at the time, Theseus had agreed and it had taken all Newt’s begging for his older brother to not kick the animal out.

Yet Percival could tell that the creature’s presence changed everything. Seeing as Theseus didn’t really want to deal with it, it forced Percival to look after the creature. And though annoying at first, he later realized what it was doing. Taking care of the creature had given him purpose, a direction. The reason why some other hobby hadn’t succeeded in doing that was because all reasons had pointed back to Percival and he hadn’t had the reason to live. Not really. But being the thing that someone else relied on, even if it was only a pet, it was something to get him going. Percival had truly never lived for himself. He had always lived for others, for helping and protecting them. And that’s what he was going with Daley. Taking care of something, nurturing it.

It seemed to be the missing link that Theseus had been unable to find and he basically said as much when he couldn’t deny the noticeable change in Percival’s demeanor.

“I’m going to have to apologize to him, won’t I?” groaned Theseus. He would have fallen over and flopped his head into Percival’s lap for extra effect but Daley had already taken the spot, his tongue slipping out to stick at Theseus as the man glared back.

“You can’t be right all the time,” Percival responded, unable to keep the fond smile off his face at Theseus’ antics.

“But this goes back to the whole start of the argument! I literally told him that his creatures and job were worthless and that he’d never do any good for the world,” Theseus cried. “Now look at him! A best seller, a hero, and he did what I couldn’t do.”

Percival hummed as he rested his head against Theseus’ shoulder. “Don’t worry. I still like you more.”

“Urgh, Newt’s going to have the higher ground now. I am never going to outlive this,” Theseus continued to groan.

“If it helps, I think he has a crush on Ms. Goldstein and refuses to say it,” Percival replied helpfully.

Theseus’ eyes sparked up at that. “Oh really. Ok, if I play my cards right, this could be manageable.”

Percival just shook his head, content with where he was pressed up against Theseus. However, he glanced up when the tone changed and it was clear Theseus had turned to more serious subjects.

“I want you to stay.”

“Is living here not staying here?” Percival deadpanned.

Theseus snorted. “No that’s not…that’s not what I mean. I’m saying you can leave, get out of here and go. Try to get your job back, whatever. I’m not going to stop you.”

Percival blinked at that, confusion coloring his face.

“But I want you to stay. And I want your clothes mixed with mine in the closet, your books shoved into the bookshelf. I want to see your things scattered amongst mine rather than pushed into those suitcases and shoved away. I want people to look around and see that two live here, not just one. I want the silverware to change draws every other day because you _insist_ that they should be nearer to the sink than the fridge and for my picture of us and our squadron to continually shift from the left to the right seeing as neither of us can tell when it’s straight or not. I don’t want you to just live here. I want you to _stay_.”

 Percival was silent for a moment, largely because he was afraid he’d do something stupid if he spoke like breaking down. Theseus’ words should have made him happy-they did make him happy-so why did he feel like he was so close to crying?

“Even if Daley stays,” Percival managed to get out.

“Yeah, even if the little cretin-hey, hey what’s wrong? Shit, I said something stupid again didn’t I?” groaned Theseus.

Percival sat up straight and felt his cheeks. The tears were there yet the usual panic and crushing guilt was not coming with him. The pain in his chest was different as well. It wasn’t the same pain that came with thoughts of his capture or torture. Neither was it holy unwelcomed.

“Come on Perc, talk to me. I’m sorry. I didn’t—”

“It’s happiness,” Percival interrupted, looking down in amazement at the tears glistening on his fingertips. He hadn’t cried from joy in…in decades. The last time he had felt so content, so complete that it hurt and felt like he might burst, had been when he was a child. And after all the tears he had shed in recent months, the thought of happy tears had seemed unreachable. “Yes,” murmured Percival. “I’m happy.”

“So that’s a…” Theseus trailed off.

“Yes.”

Theseus launched himself at Percival, lips locking with his as he pushed him to the couch. The only thing that halted him was the irritated squawk from Daley as Theseus nearly squished him between their body’s.

“Right, sorry little guy.”

“You know, I think that’s the nicest thing you’ve said to him,” Percival commented.

Theseus shrugged, a smirk on his lips. “I’m in a pretty caring mood at the moment.”

As he bent down to kiss Percival again, Percival almost asked about the nightmares, about the still present moments of fear and panic and yelling and crying. Just because caring for Daley had helped didn’t mean all of that had gone away.

But as Theseus kissed him, he realized he didn’t need to hear it. He already knew the answer. Theseus was gladly taking it all, the good and the bad.

Percival kissed back, as his shoulders relaxed in contentment. For the first time since being trapped in that dark cell, Percival felt like he had come home.


End file.
